When sophie met dallas
CW: This story includes themes of fetal distress and special care .
I have for as long as I can remembered wanted to be a mum, when it was a little bit harder to conceive Dallas then we had planned, I thought that was the hard part done and over. Boy was I wrong, I vomited multiple times a day from 6 weeks until the day he was born, had 4 UTIs one leading to a kidney infection and hospital admission at 25 weeks. Then our strong willed boy decided at 35 weeks after being head down relatively early, that he would turn breech, and in my heart I knew he wasn’t spinning and we were looking at a c-section. Sure enough when we went in to chat with an OB following that scan he was happy as the wrong way around, we were offered an ECV, but both Andy and I figured we have the rest of his life to encourage him to do things he doesn’t want to do, why start now.
So there we were signing the paper work, booking in a C-section. I was so set on having a natural vaginal water birth my entire pregnancy, the thought of a scheduled c-section wasn’t even on my radar. Alas that was the case. The 23rd of December rolled round, and we jumped in the car and drove to North Canberra Hospital, parked the car in the empty car park (if you know you know) and headed into the ghost town that is a hospital 2 days before Christmas.
A few nervous wees, fancy hair nets and cute scrubs later. I gave my partner one last kiss before everything changed and he became Dad and was wheeled in to get my spinal.
Little did I know that was the first of many things to go wrong, in goes the spinal, down I go on the bed. Then every part of my body goes numb but the top section of my abdomen (not ideal) It took what felt like 15 people to sit me up for them to readministor a second spinal, then we were on. In came Andy, with my carefully curated playlist of songs that made me happy, regardless of how inappropriate they were to the circumstances unfolding infront of us.
Our OB on the day goes, are we ready to meet this baby, I heard my waters break as Flurocent Adolecent by the Artic Monkeys played (Andy and I laughed at this being the song our son would be born too) and then they pulled out Dallas’ tiny feet, confirmed he was a little boy. Then the operating room when silent, I felt lots of tugging. I remember looking at Andy saying something is wrong he should be out by now, that was quickly interrupted by the OB saying ‘Sophie your babies head is just stuck at your ribs, we are going to push really hard ok’ and that’s exactly what they did, out popped our precious boys head and all we heard was ‘clamp, cut, put him on the table’ by now It’s Nice to be Alive by Ball Park Music is playing, and it feels terribly timed.
Whilst I see our son for the first time on a TV screen above our heads, Andy is taken over to Dallas, and someone is telling me they need to take him upstairs. As they scurry out the door, Andy shouts out ‘do you want me to call your sister and my sister like we planned.’
I didn’t know that you weren’t allowed a support person in recovery, so I sat by myself FaceTiming my baby who is now in special care on a CPAP machine being syringe fed the collostrum I hand expressed that morning, with tears streaming down my face. Whilst my sister sat outside the room, equally as anxious about what was going on.
After what felt like 12 hours but I’m sure was only 1, I was wheeled back up to the post natal ward, scoffed 3 ham and cheese sandwhiches, before our student midwife came in and said ‘let’s get you a wardsmen and go meet that little boy.’
As I got wheeled into special care they had just put Dallas on the lowest level of the CPAP, and within 15 minutes of holding his tiny little hands, he was given the OK to come off and go on my chest. Then there he was, with the dints on his little head from the CPAP beanie, and all his little monitoring stickers, looking up at me as if to say ‘what the f*** just happened mum’ and everything that had happened over the last 4 hours went out the window, he was here and everything was ok.
What do you wish you knew before birth?
I wish I knew that if something went wrong I would be alone in recovery, that the chances of a C-section babe needing a little extra breathing assistance is higher if you haven’t experienced contractions.
If you could, would you do anything differently?
I regret calling our sisters so early, we didn’t know anything and in hindsight it just added more panic to a scary scenario. I also wish I had asked more specific questions, instead of ‘is he ok’ I should have asked ‘what is happening to him’ or similar style question to force a more honest response from the medical staff.
What did your partner do that really helped during labour/birth?
After 9 months of me growing and protecting our son, the first few hours of his life fell on his dads shoulders . He sat in special care holding his feet, listening to the nurses and feeding him colostrum. He made sure to explain absolutely everything that was going on to our baby to me. Telling me how strong and brave our little champion was. I am sure he was terrified the entire time, but he held it together for both Dallas and I.
What advice/honest truth would give a mama-to-be about birth?
It’s ok to have a ‘dream birth plan’ however, look into other variations of birth. Have a just incase plan, if things don’t go exactly as you had initially thought, that is so incredibly ok.
I was so ashamed I wouldn’t experience ‘labour’ when we agreed to a c-section. But as I lay here, with my son curled up on my chest, you wouldn’t know he came out of the sunroof.